Yard Time

I nonchalantly stepped out of my cell, making sure to keep my hands in Orson’s view. Walter followed excitedly and carelessly behind. He was an overweight man with rectangular glasses and a carefree smile, like this was some sort of class field trip. He hand two-toned hair, it was brown with a ripple of gold twisting through it, and it was neatly trimmed. Everything about him seemed clean and new. It’s possible he was some aristocrat’s or something, but even then no one was this grime free. Additionally, nobles had their own “prisons,” even a relative of the upper echelon would be unlikely to end up here unless someone really wanted the guy dead.

I continued walking. Orson stood by my side, matching my pace. He wasn’t going to risk standing in front of prisoner or allowing them to lead even if he was well aware that I knew my way around, and even more well aware that I wasn’t going to try anything. Orson was a careful person, he’d been around a long time. Orcs could live up to 500 years under the right circumstances and although he was only half-Orc he’d still long outlive me.

We passed through another gate and up an incline then through a door. We had to travel up eighteen levels to reach the main courtyard. It ate up quite a bit of time, it almost wasn’t worth it. It really wasn’t worth it.

“How long have ya been working here, Mr. Man-thing.”

“I’m a Orc! Can’t you tell?”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever seen an Orc in person. It’s exciting, seeing new sights, meeting new people. Do you eat human food? Or…” He trailed off as Orson gave him a piercing side-eye and showed his underbite.

“Do you want to find out?”

“Maybe another time.”

“I’ve been here close to 80 years.”

“So, like, you’re really old then.”

Orson growled in response to the poorly considered observation. If this went on any longer the new guy wouldn’t even make it to the next floor let alone tomorrow. I suppose I told him that I’d get him to the yard and back alive…

I whispered in Orson’s ear, “The Siren’s cells are two floors up. Just don’t kill him. He’ll likely be gone by dinner tomorrow. You understand?”

Orson released a heated breath and nodded.

Three floors later, Walter’s glasses and left arm were broken, and he probably had a fractured rib. His eyes were red from crying and he could no longer talk his voice was so hoarse.

We were now on level five. Reese the Lion Beastman was being led in the opposite direction. I tapped Orson on the shoulder. He acquiesced and traded places with me.

“Plague” I whispered. Suddenly, Reese dropped to his knees, his eyes rolled back into his head and black ooze began dripping from every orifice on his face. A large claw shaped dagger fell out of his sleeve. The guard accompanying him began to scream for help; we passed by, eyes forward.

Finally, we reached the courtyard.

As usual it was overcast. Grey clouds swirled over the prison. This place was inhospitable both inside and out.

“Wh-where are…we?” Walter choked out.

“The Final Stop.”

He was staring up at the barrier that extended over the walls and through the clouds. On the other side of the green tinted barrier was a large feline eye staring us down.

“Hey!” I snapped at him.

“Don’t stare! It’s like you have a death wish.”

“S-sorry.” He averted his eyes.

“Are you stupid?”

“No! I’ve never been told so, at least.”

“Don’t be stupid then.” I was near the end of my rope with this guy, “Staring too long will draw it’s attention to you. It may be on the other side of that wall, but that doesn’t mean it’s powerless. This isn’t an aquarium.” I was beginning to have suspicions about Walters origins; actually, I was all but certain I knew where he came from; however, that didn’t make me anymore sympathetic toward him.

Several other guys arrived at the yard. I recognized most of them. Dill & Colbert, Shou & Allistairm, Ramy and new guy, and… I sighed. Lyre Warstasher. Lyre was the last person I wanted to see. This is one of the reasons why I didn’t normally take yard time.

“Is that Jonathan Doe? Do my eyes deceive me? No, impossible! But it’s true, he’s here!”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Of course I foresaw it.”

“No. You didn’t.”

A winged person with six eyes glided over to my side. He put a slimy, webbed and clawed hand my shoulder.

“Get your hand off of me, you piece of shit. I don’t have time for this.”

“But it’s true, my foresight told me that you would be here at his appointed time.”

“You can’t see anything. I know this for a fact. You see what’s in front of you.”

“The future, of course.”

“No. What’s literally in front of you. I do not have time right now.”

“Are you really in such a hurry, friend?”

“I was taking my cellmate for a walk, he was feeling cramped, like I’m feeling right now. Get off of me.” I pushed his hand away.

“Hey, Walter! Hey!” I snapped at him, his attention kept flitting to the eye in the sky, “I told you, you remember what I told you. Get over here.”

“Ah, this is the new tribute?” Lyre turned his head quizzically as Walter walked toward us.

“He’s the weakest one to come through years. Humans always get picked first, and even by human standards, this guy-”

“I think I want to go back inside.” Walter was freaked out. He turned his head toward Lyre.

“Walter, Walter don’t even ask. This is Lyre, you don’t need to know him. You wanna go back, we’re going. Okay?”

I motioned to Orson. Yard time was over. There were no events of interest on our way back. The only thing of note was Walter’s silence.